Dan Merrithew eBook

The girl was laughing excitedly as she led the way
to the dining-cabin and seated herself in front of
a great, steaming nickel coffee-pot. Blushing
radiantly she pointed to the other chair.

“Sit down, Captain Merrithew.” But
Dan protested.

“Now, really, Miss Howland,” he laughed,
“I can just as—­”

“Captain,” interrupted Virginia, sharply,
“don’t be a goose. There—­”
She began to pour the coffee. “It isn’t
really much of a breakfast,” she added; “I
shall do much better for luncheon. But, as it
is—­” she inclined her head with mock
unction as she handed him his cup.

Dan never forgot that breakfast. It was one
of those events which linger in memory, every detail
indelibly stamped, long after more important pictures
of the past have lost even a semblance of outline.

Sunlight flowed in through the portholes and rested
on the red tablecloth and the glittering steel cutlery.
For a centrepiece she had a half shattered clay flower-pot
containing a geranium plant which she had picked up
from the deck outside the woman’s cabin.
It was droopy and generally woebegone, but it served
its purpose. In front of Dan was a heaping dish
of toast artistically browned, and a generous glass
jar of marmalade.

And opposite, smiling at him, talking to him as though
they had breakfasted together for a number of years,
was the most radiant girl he had ever looked upon.
The simple costume was wonderfully effective.
The white, full throat and the curves of the neck running
to the shoulders were revealed by the low rolling
collar, and the hair coiled low shone with lustrous
sheen.

[Illustration: Opposite, smiling at him, as though
they had breakfasted together for years, was the radiant
girl.]

Despite Dan’s fears as to the manner in which
their tenancy of the derelict might terminate, he
abandoned himself to the sheer charm of it all.
When he finally arose, ending a light, laughing conversation,
the girl regarded him seriously.

“Now, Captain,” she said, “I want
to ask you something, and you must tell me truthfully.
You have examined this vessel, and you have doubtless
some idea as to what we are to do. Tell me the
exact situation.”

Dan looked her straight in the eye a moment, and the
girl returned his gaze unflinchingly.

“I am perfectly honest,” she said; “I
want you to be.”

“Well,” said Dan, “first of all
I’ll tell you what I am going to try to do:
I am going to try to sail this derelict into some port.
There is enough of the mainmast standing to allow
some sort of a sail, and we can’t be so terribly
far from land. Besides, this hold is filled with
logwood and mahogany. Now this is a valuable
cargo, worth at least fifty thousand dollars.
The vessel herself isn’t worth a great deal,
but still something. Here is the point:
if we take this vessel into port alone we can claim
fifty per cent salvage, and we’ll get it, too.
That means that we shall net, through our little experience,
some twenty-five thousand dollars between us.”